


Daring

by owlmoose



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Humor, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never let it be said that Sereda Aeducan ever backed down from a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XII. The prompt was female Warden/Alistair, first time. They say there's a first time for everything...

"You've really never done this?" Alistair looked down at her, a twinkle in his eye. "You, the noble lady who navigates the world as though she owns it, who everyone looks up to as their fearless leader? Not even on a dare?"

Sereda shrugged. "It's not as though we had winter in Orzammar. Or any other seasons. Or any weather at all, really." Another snowflake landed on her nose, and she brushed it away, then cast a baleful eye up at the sky from which its fellows persisted on falling. In the rest of Ferelden, it was still autumn, but winter came early to Soldier's Peak, and not only was it snowing here today, it was _cold_ ; Sereda rubbed her hands over her arms and shivered.

Alistair chuckled. "No, I don't suppose there would be. Well." He stepped closer, close enough that Sereda could see droplets of melted snow glittering in his hair, and favored her with a playful grin. "Go on, then. Unless you're afraid of a little cold."

She tossed him a look of scorn. "I scoff at your cold. I used to sneak out to the lava beds with Gorim all the time, risking life and limb and serious burns. What's some cold iron to that?"

He gestured toward her target, smile widening. "Then this should be trivial in comparison."

"Right." Sereda took a quick look around to ensure that they were still alone in the courtyard of the keep. Then she turned and faced her foe, her nemesis: the lamppost standing at the edge of the path. "Here goes." Before she could think better of it, she took a deep breath and touched the tip of her tongue to the metal pole.

The shock came instantly: colder than snow, colder than ice, a cold so powerful it was almost heat, burning the tender flesh of her mouth. Sereda gasped and jerked away, with another flash of pain as she pulled free, Alistair's laughter ringing in her ears. She glared at him, her tongue retreating into safety, and she tasted blood.

"You knew that would happen!" she growled, or tried to -- the pain in her mouth made it hard to speak, and so her tone was less threatening than she would have liked it to be.

"And so should you have, if you'd thought this through," Alistair pointed out, his grin more smug now. He knelt down on the snow, bringing himself to her eye level. "Are you all right? Let me see."

She kept her mouth stubbornly shut, shaking her head. "It'th fine."

"Sure you don't want me to check?" He leaned closer, near enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks. "It could be life threatening."

To save herself from having to talk, she hit him instead, pushing him away with enough force that he toppled backwards and landed on the snow. He grabbed her hand as he fell, and she tumbled atop him, her hands braced against his breastplate. "Why," she asked, nose only an inch from his, "do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Because you find me both charming and irresistible," he replied. Then he kissed her, lips warm and gentle, and everything else went away: the snow, the cold, the companions just around the corner, the throbbing pain in her tongue, the threat of the Blight. There was only Alistair, and she kissed him back, her hands sliding up his neck and into his damp hair.

"Mmm." Alistair's mouth started to travel, leaving soft kisses on her cheek, her eyelids, her temple. "Here's another thing you've never done, I assume," he murmured.

"First time for everything." She trailed her lips across his chin, seeking out a delicate spot beneath his ear; she nipped at it, and he gasped, his arms tightening across her back. "Too bad we aren't alone. I could get you out of this armor, and then we'd see how much cold _you_ can take."

Leaning back, Alistair looked at her, and he brushed the snow out of her hair, the white flakes brilliant against the black gloves he typically wore beneath his gauntlets. "Speaking of things we haven't done." His hand came down in a loose fist, resting the backs of his fingers against her cheek. "I want to. You know I do. But..."

Sereda shifted herself to straddle him, leaned down and let her hair fall into his face. Then she kissed him again, harder this time, letting his mouth open under hers, making a careful sweep with her tender tongue, and he groaned, his hips rising beneath her, his grip tightening around her neck. "On account, then," she said against his lips. "I look forward to collecting the bill." Then she sat up and grinned down at him. "And if we ever get to the lava fields, I'll show you what young dwarves dare each other to lick."

"I can hardly wait," he replied, drily, but still with a smile. Then he nudged her aside, and she shifted with him, standing and offering him a hand up. "Well, my adventurous lady. Shall we get back to the others?"

"Yeah." Her injured tongue had started throbbing again, and it was getting hard to talk. Probably she should have Wynne look at it, although she had no idea how she was going to explain herself. Well, she'd think of something on the way -- she always did. "Let's get back to camp."


End file.
